


Act 8: And Then, It All Tumbled Down

by shippingParaphernalia



Category: Homestuck
Genre: 2Gen, Act 8, After the end of Homestuck, Drama, F/F, F/M, Homestuck - Freeform, Homestuck continued, I know people tend to hate OCs but please give me a chance, Incomplete, M/M, New kids, OCs - Freeform, Problems, Second Generation, Second generation Homestuck, Stuff, Very creative ways of saying second generation, bunch of kids, cursing, second gen, ships, wweh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-09 00:49:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8869348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shippingParaphernalia/pseuds/shippingParaphernalia
Summary: The kids are happy. And why wouldn't they be? They, along with some new friends (ie Calliope, Kanaya, Karkat) have finally made that new world they've been trying to make since the beginning of Act 1. Everyone's safe. Everyone's peaceful. Everyone's ready to just kick back and relax with their respective quadrant-members... maybe even try this strange human act of 'adopting' kids?Unfortunately, Sburb goes on.The game still is played.And this time, it will strike a new cast of characters.
(Featuring OCs from following ships: Kanaya/Rose, Karkat/Dave, JakeDirk, Gamzee/Tavros. Maybe more later.Not all trolls will be present, since I'm trying to make it as realistic as possible... and canonically, not everyone makes it :((I know most people hate OCs -I hate OCs- but please give mine a chance. I tried making them as un-Mary-Sue like as I could, as well as giving them their own spark of personality. If you have any suggestions for how to improve them, you are, of course, encouraged to share!)
Reviews/kudos/whatever are appreciated!
***





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, first chapter's up!  
> Sorry for strange color/space things ^^''  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. I know it's boring now, but it'll get better soon!
> 
> ~Georgie
> 
> ***

~avianEnthusiast (AE) began trolling questioningChronologist (QC)~

AE: ok so i need a f@vor.

QC: yoU arE iN thE otheR rooM  
QC: literallY righT nexT tO minE

AE: i know.

QC: whY donT yoU comE oveR insteaD oF textinG

AE: i think the better question here is: why @re you compl@ining?  
AE: i thought you loved it when i t@lked to you.  
AE: you @lw@ys s@y we ‘dont t@lk enough’.

QC: welL wE donT  
QC: brotherS anD sisterS arE supposeD tO interacT morE

AE: who told you th@t?

QC: nO onE  
QC: buT looK aT moM anD unclE davE

AE: they never t@lked until they were like six sweeps old.  
AE: @nd even then it w@s @ll online.  
AE: @nyway, they were @ctually related. we’re not.

QC: *frowninG interneT facE*

AE: now @bout th@t f@vor...

QC: whaT iS iT

AE: mex is flipping his shit @t me in our ch@tlog.  
AE: c@n you like.  
AE: shoosh-p@p his @ss down.

QC: whY iS hE flippinG hiS shiT

AE: th@t is a very good question.  
AE: unfortun@tely i h@ve not m@n@ged to find out yet.  
AE: since  
AE: you know.  
AE: hes flipping his shit.

QC: canT yoU telL hiM tO stoP

AE: i thought th@t w@s your job?

QC: nO  
QC: i steP iN onlY wheN itS importanT

AE: this IS import@nt.

QC: *skepticaL interneT facE*

AE: look.  
AE: @s much @s it p@ins me to s@y it, the one thing you surp@ss me @t is shoosh-p@pping.  
AE: i c@nt do th@t shit.  
AE: i me@n, hitting someones f@ce while hissing?  
AE: doesnt sound too rel@xing to me.

QC: yoU jusT havenT meT thE righT shoosH-pappeR yeT  


AE: /shrug

QC: ...  
QC: arE yoU stilL upseT oveR yoU-knoW-whO

AE: m@ybe.  
AE: but th@t h@s nothing to do with my problem right now.  
AE: so in conclusion: unless you w@nt your moir@il to work himself into a scre@ming fit, you might w@nn@ he@d over.

QC: hE alwayS workS himselF intO a screaminG fiT  
QC: itS actuallY easieR foR mE wheN hE doeS  
QC: theN alL i havE tO dO iS noD iN agreemenT anD paP hiM untiL hE calmS dowN  
QC: arE yoU tellinG mE tO gO finD hiM anD calM hiM dowN noW

AE: yep.

QC: hmM

AE: cmon.  
AE: ill owe you one.  
AE: m@ybe ill even visit your room to t@lk f@ce to f@ce for once.  
AE: consider it @n e@rly gristm@s gift.

QC: finE

AE: th@nks sis.  
AE: youre the best.  
AE: im sorry for screwing @round with your t@rot shit yesterd@y.

QC: whaT

AE: nothing.  
AE: go calm your p@lebro’s m@sculine tits.

~avianEnthusiast (AE) stopped trolling questioningChronologist (QC)~

***

Your name is EIRENE LALYAM, and your MOIRAIL is apparently throwing one of his well-known HISSY-FITS.

Of course, it falls on your shoulders to calm his masculine tits down. As if taking care of THREE BROTHERS wasn’t enough.  
You guess you love them and all, but still. Half the time you’re not even sure they reciprocate the sentiment, the other half they’re asking you for favors. Surely all siblings aren’t this bad? Bi-Stri and her sister seem to get on well enough.  
Maybe it’s different with girls. Or humans. Or something.

Anyway.

You are 14 years old, or, as one of your moms would put it, 6.46 SWEEPS.  
You also have a variety of interests, like SHIPPING. But not the petty matchmaking kind. Your version of shipping is sophisticated and mature. It involves a lot of COMPLEX ASTROLOGY, PSYCHOLOGY and CHARTS. All the CHARTS.  
You also like to dabble in a bit of FORTUNE-TELLING if you’re paid well enough by your clients. Those Prospitians would probably believe anything you told them, but you still like to TRY YOUR BEST with each and every one. You have yet to meet an unsatisfied customer.

Your trollhandle is questioningChronologist, and you tend to 

typE iN a quirK yoU knoW annoyS youR motheR. youR grasP oN emojiS iS alsO prettY loosE.  
*confuseD interneT facE*

Currently, you are THINKING ABOUT SHOOSHING YOUR PALEBRO. What will you do?

**== >Shoosh palebro.**

What, like… now?  
He’s not in the room with you, you know. You’ll have to contact him via trollian.

**== >Contact via trollian.**

You scroll down your computer’s list of trollhandle names. When you first made this account, you made sure to friend everyone you knew.  
Literally everyone.  
Even terminallyCapricious is on your contacts since personally, you hold nothing against… was it Gamsee? Yeah. Gamsee. You know everyone else does, though. Your mother, Uncle Karkat, Aunt Terezi… they’re all mad at him for some petty reason or the other. And you know your mother hates that you’ve friended him. She tried to get you to change your mind, but you stuck firm.  
You can be a regular Dolorosa sometimes--- defending the weak and whatnot.  
And surely no one needed your friendship more than a lonely old juggalo.  
He was definitely the victim in his story… a rejected godtier scorned by friends and foes alike.  
You decided long ago to be down with the clown, and have yet to repent.  
After all, what could go wrong? :o)

**== >Click on upcomingFinale.**

Your mouse hovers over this bright blue username uncertainly.  
You know what you promised your brother, but… ugh.  
You love your moirail and all, but… ugh.  
With a sigh, you click.

***

~questioningChronologist (QC) began trolling upcomingFinale (UF)~

QC: hellO  
QC: hellO  
QC: arE yoU herE  
QC: anD iF sO  
QC: whY arE yoU ignorinG mE  
QC: hellO  
QC: hellO  
QC: arE yoU stilL flippinG youR shiT  


UF: sAOIYGFPSFso8fdo8FDcdscdkucd0000  


QC: hellO  


UF: aaygaua76R754%$^#%$#  


QC: arE yoU alrighT  


UF: DGLSIYFDLSAYFAI__-NiHSHAUGI666  


QC: uM  
QC: dO yoU neeD somE cybeR-shooshinG  


UF: }}}w79t2te782a__986389825)))8373egd cbcbckhxkhc adgSHSISIYGG  


QC: …  


UF: SIAIHDODODA[DGA9G9DG7DG_-2727272SOOOOOOOOOOOOOSOSK  


QC: iM cominG oveR

~questioningChronologist (QC) has disconnected.~

***

Goddammit.


	2. Act 8, Act 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a fourteen year old manages to accidentally impale himself with his own weapon of choice.  
> Because.  
> You know.  
> Skills.
> 
> ***

***

Your name is MEXXEJ VANDER, and you are just so alIDIdiDFIYAFDIAFSjvl right now.

This morning has literally been nothing but a mangle of misunderstandings and moods. A stupid chain of stupid events, one stupidity unfolding the next.

As a young 6.46 SWEEP OLD troll boy, you have a wide range of interests, from WAR to BONES to WEAPONS, and right now, that last interest seems to have stabbed you in the back. Literally. 

There is a SPEAR protruding through your STOMACH. 

Most 6.46 sweep olds would probably be a little disturbed if the tip of a spear--silver, high quality--was sticking out of their stomachs, but you are NOT MOST 6.46 SWEEP OLDS, and you've been through worse. Honestly, if anything, you're just really pissed off right now. 

You can't just  _pull_ the spear out --that'd be suicidal--but maybe if you wiggle it a little bit...

**== >Wiggle it a little bit.**

You prod the spear delicately, and barely flinch as a torrent of indigo blood pours out.

Welp.

There goes the new carpet.

**== >Clean up that mess.**

Yeah, that's a champion idea. Focus on the furniture while you slowly bleed to death. It's good to know your priorities are so in sync with your well-being.

**== >How did that thing even get there...**

It's a long, unimportant story involving a stick of butter, an itch, and flypaper. You rest confident that no one would want to hear it. 

**== >Mexxej: Panic.**

You refuse to 'panic'.

You like to keep a clear head in situations like these. If you were in a war, what good would it do you to lose your wits? None at all, that's what. Instead, you proceed to LOGICALLY ANALYZE THE SITUATION, as is the proper response for moments like these.

Maybe you should contact Eirene for help? She  _is_ your moirail, after all.

Yes, that's what you'll do. You open a new tab on your computer and prepare to click on her name, but something makes you refrain the last minutes. A series of last minute doubts and what-ifs.

**== >Mexxej: Contemplate what-ifs.**

What if she gets angry? Eirene never gets angry, but you're never sure when she might start. It's always those quiet ones. And it doesn't help that you're always pestering her with your petty unimportant problems, like you're preparing to do now.

What if she doesn't care? Moirails are supposed to, but you've heard countless stories about those who don't. Mainly from your father. His bitter tales of an uncontrollable, unloyal, evil clown ex-moirail have filled your thoughts ever since you were a sweep old. It doesn't help that Eirene has friended this uncontrollable, unloyal, evil clown ex-moirail. She says she feels sorry for him.  She also says she cares about you more than anyone. You don't know how much she means it, though. You know you're a handful to watch after.

Wait, wait, you got a bad one--- What if she thinks you're weak?

You can't face her. She'll think you weak for sure. A dumb old blueblood who can't even handle a petty spear.

No, you won't contact her.

You'll contact second best.

That way, she'll stay relaxed and you'll get the help you need. 

 

**== >Contact avianEnthusiast.**

~upcomingFinale (UF) began trolling avianEnthusiast (AE)~

UF: Hello.

AE: sup.

UF: Are you Eirene's younger sibling.

AE: depends which one youre looking for.

UF: I am looking for the one by the name of Topelt.

AE: then ye@h th@ts me.  
AE: whos @sking?

UF: I'd prefer my identity to remain secret.

***

You smile at yourself, pleased. That sounds right. Professional. Definitely nothing like someone who's life is on the line here.

***

AE: o...k@y?  
AE: youre reenie's moir@il, right?  
AE: 'mex'?  
AE: the one who still doesnt h@ve a quirk?

***

Shit.

***

UF: I can neither confirm nor deny.

AE: so... yes?

UF: ...Perhaps.

AE: hehe, you type like @ tool.

UF: I am not sure how to respond to that.

AE: s'ok. reenie c@n be dumb like th@t too. ive gotten used to it.  
AE: wh@t do you w@nt?

UF: Well, I am currently in a bit of a tight situation. I would.  
UF: Ahem.  
UF: Require some guidance.

AE: cool. ill get reenie.

***

Shitshit.

***

UF: Guidance from you.

AE: uh.  
AE: why?

UF: Because you are Eirene's younger sibling and therefore second best to the original. I was hoping you could. Er. Help me out.

AE: ok two things:  
AE: 1. no.  
AE: 2. no.

***

Shitshitshit.

This conversation is  _not_ going as planned.

***

UF: Why not?

AE: i dont just help people for free, wise@ss. if you expect me to lift a finger, i expect p@yment.  
AE: even reenie expects those bubble-headed white fre@ks to p@y her when she does her t@rot-fortune-telling baloney.

UF: So you are saying a trade is in order.

AE: yep.

***

Oh, is that all he wants? A trade?  
Bring it on.  
You are _lit_ when it comes to the world of business. You're simply the best there is.  
But you might want to hurry this along---you're starting to feel a little faint, and the blood pooling around you is definitely not helping. You might be better lasting than other coolbloods of your kind, but you still don't want to push yourself to the limit. What would your fathers say if they found you dead in your room? You'd definitely be grounded.

***

UF: Name your demands.

AE: n@me what youre offering.

UF: I'm offering a chance for you to launch this exchange first.  
UF: Now name your demands.

AE: fine.  
AE: i w@nt @ k@k@po.  
AE: @live.

UF: What is a Kakapo

AE: @ hell@ r@re bird. i keep on trying to find one to @dd to my @vian collection, but bec@use ive been grounded for @lmost two weeks now i h@vent h@d the time.  
AE: if you _@re_ mex, reenie tells me you're @ pretty good shot. i w@nt you to go @nd get me th@t k@k@po.  
AE: but, just s@ying, if you kill it, @ll de@ls @re off--@nd i will pummel you into the dirt for killing such @n end@ngered breed.

UF: I agree to your terms but can you give me my advice from now because I am in a rather desperate situation and require guidance

***

The faint-ness is starting to overwhelm you, and although you notice your typing is starting to get a little woozy (where did your punctuation go?) you find yourself unable to correct it.

What's taking this kid so long? 

***

AE: no w@y. i dont know you well enough. you could che@t me out of this.

UF: I swear I wont

AE: not good enough.

UF: I swear on my life  
UF: However long taht might be  
UF: That ill get you the kakapo after your part of the trade is conducted

AE: idk, m@n. theres something fishy @bout this.

AE: i me@n i dont just w@nt to throw my one ch@nce @t getting @ re@l live k@k@po @way.  
AE: th@td be stupid.  
AE: @nd prob@bly something reenie would do.  
AE: wh@ts your problem @nyw@y.

UF: Spear

AE: wh@t.

UF: In my stomchash

AE: ??

UF: ajgs;odu;SYU;FDADSKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKHN, AKHF IYEWGFAIYFP97QTEREWQP9RT5WE97R697QTR597EW5R

AE: uh.

UF: 73948BVD7NJD__-SJDIAGDP9ATDWQ70QTEASDLAYFDAIDISAAYQI!!!!!!!11

AE: did you f@ll on your keybo@rd?

UF: 9GWDHGSLOUGFSA;OFGPO8SA9NF 9W7R3XR742NC C CEWRGNXR7EWJ X R7ETR0EWT

AE: ....

UF: IGDOSDGFOSTFO8DSA hgsdjgsauauafdoasfdafsddjsda'd[9ee21] hdg 88888

AE: ye@h im c@lling reenie.  
AE: w@it here.

~avianEnthusiast (AE) ceased trolling upcomingFinale (UF)~

***

**== > Mexxej: Sit up.**

You can't.

You've slipped on your chair and now have your forehead pressed on the keyboard, all smooshed against your bloody keys. It doesn't matter, really. You can just lie here for a bit before getting up.  
God, you're tired.

**== > Answer questioningChronologist.**

You can hear someone trying to contact you, but you don't lift your head. It's probably nothing important.

**== > Sleep.**

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, next chapter up!  
> I'm having an easier time making these chatlog-thingies, but urghh. Html. Why.  
> Thank you so much to all you who commented! Your support is amazing!!  
> I hope you like this update. It was super hard to write X|  
> Don't forget to post your thoughts!
> 
> ~Georgie
> 
> ***


	3. Act 8, Act 1, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eirene trots off in a dignified scamper to find her moirail, and a new character is introduced.  
> Well, not new.  
> You already know who he is.  
> ...Whatever.

**== >Eirene: Exit room.**

There's no time for dilly-dallying right now. Mexxej is obviously not okay. You need to get over there pronto to help out.

You scamper out of your room as quickly as you can, while simultaneously making sure to maintain an aura of dignified mystery around you. Fortune-tellers like you need to have one 24/7.

**== >Go downstairs.**

On the way down, you pass your brothers' rooms. One for each. Even the youngest has a room, and he's just a wiggler. Sometimes you amuse yourself with the thought of stepping on him, but the thought of your moms' reactions and his icky brown blood spraying everywhere always puts you off.

From Topelt's room, you can hear the flapping of multiple desperate wings. You shake your head slightly and pull your shawl around you. You've told him countless times that imprisoning what is rightly meant to fly can only lead to trouble, but he never listens. _avianEnthusiast_ indeed.

From your other brother's room, no sounds are audible. Maybe he's sleeping. 

You go down the stairs in your dignified scamper.

**== >Avoid motherly confrontation.**

You try to tap into your EPIC FORTUNE-TELLING SENSES to see if your moms are anywhere nearby-- and spectacularly fail. Your powers are just not that good. Sometimes you can't help but be envious of Topelt. The only reason  _he_ ever uses his Psionics is to steal the last cookie without leaving his room. The bastard. If that kind of power was given to you, you'd be damn well putting it to use. 

You feel guilty for thinking like this of Topelt. He's your brother. And very young. He'll soon understand the greatness he's meant for, the greatness you've prophesied him to acquire.

Then again, it'd be so much easier if he actually  _listened_ for a change.

**== >Stop getting off track.**

Right.

**== >Let's try that again. 'Avoid motherly confrontation.'**

You glance stealthily around you as you enter the living room. It'd probably be easier if your hair wasn't EVERY WHICH WAY you faced, but what to do. You and the hairbrush have a hella good rivalry going on. If it weren't an inanimate object, you'd definitely be taking its advances as black solicitation.

You slowly sneak around one of the totally awesome wizarding statues perched next to the door. If you can just get past this one obstacle--

You can---

**== >Exit house without being noticed.**

Yes.

YES.

YESSSSSS!

YOU'RE FR---E---E !!

Woah, what was that? For a moment there, you just...

**== >Head over to Mexxej's house.**

You'll prod more into that matter later. 

Softly closing the door behind you, you make your way across the sidewalk. Today is market day for the Prospitians and Dersites. They flood the streets, bickering and thrusting fruit (mainly pumpkins) in each others faces. When they see you however, they make sure to keep a respectful distance.

You straighten up importantly. It's nice to be appreciated by _somebody_ \-- even if it's only on behalf of your heroic moms. 

Some Prospitians dare to wave at you. You acknowledge them with an air of grace and a nod of the head. You've read their fortunes far too many times to count.

They ask you where you're headed. You confess it to be Mexxej's house, and lo and behold! They're ecstatic! The adoptive daughter of famous Kanaya Maryam and Rose Lalonde going to visit the adoptive son of equally famous Karkat Vantas and Dave Strider? What marvel!

They beg to accompany you, but you politely turn them down. Moirallegiance is very personal, you say. As is shoosh-papping. It won't do for others to be present.

They nod. They understand. They beg forgiveness for daring to ask, which you grant them with a wave of your hand. Finally, they let you go, and you continue down the street confidently, the sweet sound of pumpkins being thrown behind you.

**== >Reach house.**

Ah, there's the house of your beloved moirail! You step up to the door and ring the bell three times, as is your custom. Any moment now he should answer, and you'll finally find out what in Prospit's name is wrong with him today.

**==Reader: But wait!**

What is this?

The nonexistent panel flips, and you're suddenly faced with a new second generation character!

He's a short lad, with messy black hair and strange m-shaped horns. He scowls at you when he sees you. And just what do you think you're doing here, he says. Do you even know who I am?

Of course you know who he is.

This young troll is obviously...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know that last chapter kind of sucked, but stick with me. This is just my version of a shitty Act 1.  
> Once again, comments are appreciated and make me want to update!
> 
> ~Georgie


	4. Act 8, Act 1, Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the not-so-mysterious troll is revealed as none other than TOPELT LALYAM, a new mysterious person appears, and Karkat is Karkat-y.

**== >Enter young m-horned troll's name.**

Your name is TOPELT LALYAM.

You are 5.54 SWEEPS, or, in Earth-vocabulary, 12 YEARS OLD.

Your interests include BIRDS, BIRDS, and BIRDS. Did you mention BIRDS? No but, seriously, BIRDS are awesome. BIRDS are THE SHIT. You don't know how to express your love of BIRDS in detail other than with a single word: OBSESSED.

Except for BIRDS though, you do have a few slightly less interesting interests, like GAMING and doing ~~SHITTY~~  HELLA EDUCATIONAL SCIENCE LABS. Blowing stuff up rocks, whether it be virtually or literally.

You also like to occasionally write SONGS which you perform on your GUITAR before realizing how shitty they truly are, tearing them up, and crying. Not that anyone knows this. 

You're stuck with TWO BROTHERS and ONE SISTER, which you believe to be one of the worst punishments a young troll should have to face. You also have two moms, but you don't really mind that. Your moms are chill.

Your trollhandle is avianEnthusiast and you like to

get shit done in the f@stest w@y possible, ok.

Currently, you are MOPING AROUND WRITING SONGS ABOUT THE GOOD OLD TIMES WHEN YOU STILL HAD A MOIRAIL. And damn, that's a lot of capitalization.

What will you do?

= **= >Topelt: Continue to mope.**

With pleasure.

"Oh Bi-Stri Bi-Stri Bi-Stri.

You were the apple of my eye-eye eye-eye eye-eye.

Thinking of you now makes me sigh-sigh sigh-sigh sigh-sigh..."

Yeah, no, this song stinks.

You roll you eyes as you rip it up, and then scream as a sparrow flies into your face. These LOUSY GODFORSAKEN BIRDS!! Why do you even like them? You remember Reenie saying something to you about not caging what is meant to fly, but you didn't listen. Reenie likes to sprout these spooky phrases all the time... none of them ever _mean_ anything. She's just a drama queen.

Then again, she might have a point when she accused you of hoarding. Your room has become a ZOO. Birds fly everywhere, screaming and cawing and not letting you get any beauty sleep. It can get really tiring at times.

**== >Alright, everybody out.**

Out, out, out, you say!

You use your Psionics to open the window, and then use them some more to shove all your beloved avians outdoors. They flock to the skies gratefully. You stick your tongue out behind them. They'll be back soon. Their freedom is shortlived.

**== >Cry about Bi-Stri some more.**

Oh Bi-Stri, Bi-Stri, Bi-Stri... no, you've lost the mood now. You think about contacting her. She told you you were still free to at any time, but you haven't for weeks now, out of sheer humiliation. How does one find the courage to confront their ex-moirail after being dumped by them and still keeping up an ongoing relationship with the devil of a reason they were dumped in the first place? It simply won't do.

Speak of the devil---

**== >Answer devil.**

~villainousVictory (VV) began trolling avianEnthusiast (AE)~

VV: Hey bird boy.  
VV: miss me?

AE: i thought you were bi-stri.

VV: Well, we all operate under some delusion or the other.  
VV: i actually used to think you were cool! Hahahahahaha.

AE: Σ:/

VV: Are those supposed to be your horns? Pffft.

AE: just s@y wh@t you w@nt @lre@dy.  
 AE: i'm not in the mood to t@lk to you.  
AE: i've @lre@dy put up with enough shit tod@y @s it is.

VV: how Woefully tragic!   
VV: Sorry i'm not sorry for not caring. :)

AE: grrrr.  
AE: c@n't you ever cut me a bre@k?  
AE: s@y wh@t you w@nt @nd _le@ve._

VV: maybe Just to see my lovely hatedate!

AE: i doubt it.

VV: Hahahahaha.  
VV: sorry, I meant H@h@h@h@h@h@.  
VV: You know, i've never tried talking like you before...  
VV: bl@h bl@h bl@h. much bl@h.  
VV: look @t me, I'm topelt @nd i type like @ tool! 

VV: In yellow, sorry.

AE: well your shitty red isn't much to br@g @bout.

AE: sorry, *brag about.

VV: Red's a good color. it symbolizes strength And bravery.

AE: ye@h?

VV: Yeah!  
VV: while yellow is just for little pissbloods like yourself! :)

AE: le@st i'm not some sort of hybrid-blooded shitf@ce.  
AE: you won't even live to 100.

VV: Neither will Bi-stri.

AE: Σ:(

VV: oh, but don't worry! i'm making the most of _my_ Time, at least. unlike my darling sister.  
VV: Hahaha, talk about a fatass.  
VV: have you _seen_ her waist? that girl won't reach _90_ at this rate!  
VV: But don't worry, When she dies you'll always have me to come crying back to.  
VV: maybe we can bury her together!  
VV: If i dont let my dogs eat her first :)

AE: i'd r@ther burn in hell th@n re@d one more p@r@gr@ph of this.

VV: Owch! 

AE: @lso, t@lk shit @bout bi-stri one more time, @nd you're going down.  
AE: you lousy, self-centered, emotion@lly in@rticul@te, tr@itorous BITCH.

VV: let me just see how many Shits i give about what you just said...  
VV: Oh no, seems I'm all out. :(

AE: you know wh@t.  
AE: i'm done with you.

VV: you wish you were!

AE: i don't h@ve to wish. i h@ve a block button right here, @nd my finger's @bout to click it.

VV: Empty words much?

AE: finger going down in 3.

VV: you won't Do it.

AE: 2.

VV: If you do, you'll never know what i contacted you for.  
VV: and rest assured, it's Important.

AE: 1.

VV: I dare you.

~villainousVictory (VV) was blocked by avianEnthusiast (AE)~

**== >Eirene: Ring doorbell.**

You press the button three times as is your custom, and after a few impatient minutes, a fourth.  
The door is finally opened by a grumpy looking Mr. Vantas. You greet him politely.

KARKAT: WHAT. WHO'S THERE. 

You waggle your fingers. You're almost as tall as Karkat is, and Mex goes way past him, but Karkat still likes to pretend that everyone younger than he is is also shorter than he is. No amount of tallness will ever convince him otherwise.

KARKAT: OH, IT'S YOU. HI. DID ROSE SEND YOU?

You assure him your mom did not send you.

KARKAT: DID KANAYA? IS SHE OKAY?

Your mother did not send you either, you say. And yes, she's doing just fine.

KARKAT: THEN WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING OUTSIDE MY DOOR IN THE RISE AND CRACK OF THE MORNING. SERIOUSLY, IT'S SO BRIGHT OUT HERE I CAN'T SEE MY NOSE. GO BACK TO BED.

You draw yourself up to your full height and remind him that you and your family are diurnal.

KARKAT: WHAT.

That means that you sleep at night. Not day.

KARKAT: OH YEAH. MEXXEJ AND DAVE ARE LIKE THAT TOO. WELL, DAVE IS. I'M NOT SURE ABOUT MEXXEJ. THEN AGAIN, WHO EVER IS? STUPID LITTLE GRUBMUNCHER LIKES TO TWIST OUR MINDS AROUND UNTIL THEY'RE AS SPIRAL AS THAT DRUGGED LOLLIPOP CALLIOPE BROUGHT TO THE WEDDING. YOU THINK YOU KNOW SOMETHING ABOUT HIM, AND THEN HE GOES OUT OF HIS WAY TO PROVE YOU WRONG FIVE MINUTES AFTER. I FEEL BAD FOR HIS MOIRAIL. UH, NO OFFENSE.

You tell him none was taken, and agree Mexxej can be quite confusing at times. But when the stars bring you together in the sacred ball dance known as moirallegience, one has no say but to dance along, right? Karkat looks at you weirdly.

KARKAT: ...RIGHT. SURE. SO WHY ARE YOU HERE AGAIN?

You need to see his son. You have reason to believe he isn't doing well.

KARKAT: THAT'S AN ASSUMPTION THAT BELONGS OFF THE HORSESHIT-O-METER FROM THE SHEER AMOUNT OF HORSESHIT IT HAS. MEXXEJ IS JUST FINE, I SAW HIM LAST NIGHT. DID HE TELL YOU ANYTHING TO PROVE OTHERWISE?

Well, no, but still. You can sense these things. That, and Topelt told you so. Please? It'll only take a second.

KARKAT: FINE. I DON'T BELIEVE A WORD OF THIS, BUT WHY NOT. JUST HURRY UP OR I'M CALLING KANAYA TO COME GET YOU.

You scurry inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took way too long and I'm sorry!  
> Please remember to comment if you liked. I really like comments ^^'
> 
> -Georgie


End file.
